| Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, I must throw out a flag and sign of love.—Othello. |
That day Vinal drove to the Quartier Latin, called upon his friend Richards, and asked him to dine at the Trois Frères Provençaux. Mr. Richards was never known to decline such an invitation.
To the Trois Frères accordingly they repaired. Richards, whose social position at home was much inferior to that of his entertainer, thought the latter a capital fellow; especially when Vinal flattered him by deferring to his better taste and experience in the ordering of the dinner. But when, after nightfall, they issued forth again upon the open area of the Palais Royal, the delicate Vinal shivered with the cold. A chill wind and a dreary rain had set in, and Vinal, always cautious in such matters, said that before proceeding on their evening's amusements, he would go to Meurice's and get an overcoat.
The overcoat being found, Vinal, buttoned to the chin, came down the stairway, and rejoined Richards.
Morton had just before sent a servant for a carriage, to drive to the opera, and was waiting wrapped in his cloak, on the steps outside the door.
"What shall our first move be?" asked Richards of Vinal, as they passed out.
"Whatever you like."
"You had better give the word."
"Then suppose we go and see your friend, the professor."
"Who the deuse is Richards's friend, the professor?" thought Morton, as the others passed without observing him.